


BTS - Suga's first girlfriend cheats on him

by Insfiringyou



Series: Headcanon Masterlist [47]
Category: K-pop, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Cheating, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, Lemon, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insfiringyou/pseuds/Insfiringyou
Summary: This documents how Suga meets his first serious girlfriend since his debut in BTS and how their 6 month relationship plays out. Warnings for lots of smut and mentions of drug use.This can be enjoyed on its own, but we imagine this as part of our ongoing storyline in our headcanon universe. This takes place several years before Yoongi meets Jeong-sun and the girl here is the “White” girl mentioned by Jeong-sun in our “BTS reacts to you being jealous and insecure about other girls around them” scenario.Read all of our Suga headcanon fics to date on tumblr here: https://insfiringyou.tumblr.com/post/185247087886/bts-sugas-headcanon-universe-fics& our full masterlist can be found on tumblr here: https://insfiringyou.tumblr.com/post/181721410706/bts-complete-masterlist





	BTS - Suga's first girlfriend cheats on him

PART ONE

If she had worked in a busier part of Seoul, her long, blonde hair and Caucasian features would have undoubtedly gotten her more attention from men in the local area. As it happened, the record shop she worked in was almost always deserted save for a few regular buyers who wondered down the narrow aisles leisurely, flicking through the vinyls, CDs and music equipment to the soundtrack of Warpaint or Amanda Palmer. She had eyed Yoongi from her place behind the counter indifferently during his first few visits, looking up from her current copy of NME magazine occasionally to watch him as he browsed the hip hop records and tried on the headphones on display. She vaguely recognised him from the television; her niece was obsessed with Idol groups and she was sure he had debuted recently. 

His freshly dyed red hair, a few weeks after his first visit, confirmed her suspicions and she typed the bar code of the bass boosting device he was buying with an air of condescension into the desktop computer which served as a till. The store was independently run by her landlord and they hadn’t yet updated to a scanning system. 

“Have you finished paying off the managers for your training yet?” She asked, slipping the device into a carrier bag and refusing to meet his gaze. Her voice was soft rather than scornful, but the meaning was clear nonetheless. She didn’t believe that Idol groups could be classed as real music and she made a point not to sell any K-Pop records in the store. 

Half-expecting the man on the other side of the desk to grab the bag off her and storm out of the store, she was surprised when his eyes flicked up from the table to her face. She caught the change from the corner of her eye and met his gaze briefly before he dropped it to the name badge on her camouflage patterned t-shirt. The manager insisted on her wearing it, even though besides him and the occasional Saturday temp, she was the only person who worked in the store. 

“Is that your surname?” Yoongi asked in a tone which she could not quite deduce. She frowned, looking down at her chest automatically; the blue enamel square rested just above the scant swell of her right breast, wondering whether he was genuinely curious or wanted to file a complaint. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

“First name.” She said after a moment, sensing it was the former.

“What’s your last name?” 

“Park.” She anticipated the small smile which crept onto the man’s lips. Being the only white girl at school had certainly prepared her for being questioned a lot later in life. She had never been bullied per se, but the other children were always asking her about her hair or eyes; whether she dyed it or wore contact lenses. She eyed the younger male, unimpressed.

“Kim Park. Doesn’t that get confusing?” He said softly.

“I’m sorry…” She began sarcastically, before had really thought through her answer. “I can’t go back to 1991 and ask my mom to change my name to something more Korean.”

There was a pause as he met her gaze; chocolate coloured eyes against a fierce sea blue. “Or less Korean.” He quipped. A blush spread over her slightly freckled cheeks and he found himself reassuring her. “It’s a nice name. I’m Yoongi.” He finished as he slipped his fingers through the black carrier and headed out of the store. She watched him go, unsure on how to feel about what just happened but frustratingly aware of her increased heart rate as he closed the door behind him.

She was surprised to see him later that week, silently browsing the international rap section at the back of the store. It was a Saturday and she had to serve three customers before she had a chance to speak to him. She wasn’t sure why she wanted to, after all, they appeared to have nothing in common whatsoever, but she found herself wanting to get some kind of reaction from him. Reaching under the counter desk, she pulled out a CD case before strolling over to him casually. He seemed lost in his own world but the heady, resinous scent of her Dragon’s Blood perfume oil caught his attention.

“Here.” She stood behind him and extended her arm to show him the cover. “We ordered loads of these, they’re cluttering up our stock room.” He turned around, glancing briefly at her before eyeing the Kanye West CD in her hand. “I think the album’s shit…but you’ll probably like it.” She pushed it into his hand. 

“I already have it.” He said, drily, his eyes fixed on the cover. 

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She turned away, hoping to express an air of indifference as she walked back to the counter, leaving him with the album. He turned back to the rack of albums and slotted the CD into the correct compartment, shaking his head with a small smile. 

It pissed her off like there was no tomorrow, but she found herself anticipating his visits. She typically had Sundays and Mondays off work as her manager covered the shifts but she found herself coming downstairs from her small apartment above the store at sporadic periods throughout the day, ignoring the flirty glances of her older co-worker to glance around the space, seeking him out. As though in an effort to get him off her mind, one Saturday evening, in a drunken haze she decided to shave the underside of her hair on the right hand side, leaning over the old, chipped bathtub in her apartment as she did so blindly. In the morning, once the hangover had worn off and she had taken the courage to look in the bathroom mirror, she found herself questioning her life choices as well as swearing to lay off the booze. 

Yoongi, on his next visit the following Tuesday, didn’t disappoint in his quip. “Did you slip?” He asked, eyeing her hair from the other side of the counter with a straight face. 

She scowled. “It was on purpose.” She looked over at his slightly curly cherry red locks. “What’s your excuse?” She raised an eyebrow apathetically. 

He shrugged and flashed her a brief, gummy grin. She couldn’t help but notice how her chest fluttered a little at the sight. “Couldn’t find my beanie.” He said as an explanation. There was a pause between them before he spoke again. “Are you doing anything tonight?” It came off casual and she didn’t allow herself to read anything more into it. 

She nodded, tugging subconsciously at the hem of her green cropped top. “I have a DJ gig tonight.” 

“Anywhere I know?” He asked. 

“Probably not.” Glancing at him nonchalantly, she handed him one of the A6 sized flyers from the edge of the counter. He took it silently, looking at the address on the bottom of the colourful design. “Do you know Kraftwork?” 

He shrugged before tucking the leaflet into the pocket of his parka. As he turned to leave, she called after him, a little frantically. “Aren’t you going to buy anything?” 

She tried to keep her expression neutral as he took a step back towards the desk and picked up a pin badge at random from the little rotating rack which perched on the edge. He handed it over to her without looking and she typed the bar code into the computer, making a mistake twice and having to start over. He waited patiently for her to finish before he handed over the correct change and pocketed the item. 

She didn’t expect to see him that evening, but as she finished the end of her first set, she spotted him weaving his way through the crowd, clutching a bottled beer. He glanced at her, briefly meeting her gaze from behind the DJ decks, before heading to the edge of the room and perching his drink on the wooden ledge which jutted out of a whitewashed pillar. The club was small and by no means full, but Yoongi seemed out of place nonetheless. He was the only male not sporting visible tattoos for a start and his hair was shorter than the majority of the room. Her stomach flipped as her eyes followed him; unable to help her mouth from parting at the shock of seeing him there. He didn’t like her as much as she didn’t like him; at least she had never given him a reason to like her, yet here he was.

She tried to avoid looking at him as she ran through the playlist, some items selected by her and others part of a pre-arranged setlist. She practically cringed, twenty minutes later, when the opening lines of Kanye West’s Stronger began to blare through the room. Her eyes darted to the male in the corner for the first time in a while and she noted him looking down at the floor, a smug smile playing on his lips. She wrapped up the set ten minutes later to a room of polite applause. She had noticed several of the men in attendance eyeing the smooth flesh below her pleated skirt as she stepped off the platform and made a point to tug it down a little before walking over to Yoongi, allowing the club’s regular DJ to take over. 

He took a sip of beer as she joined him. “Was that for me?” He asked, a sly smile playing on his lips. She reached over and slipped the glass bottle from his hand before pressing it to her lips and taking a gulp. He didn’t seem to mind. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She rolled her eyes haughtily as she drank again. “It was on the setlist.” 

He grinned warmly and nodded towards the bottle in her hand. “Do you want a drink of your own?” 

She couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the offer. “Yeah.” She noticed her stomach churn pleasantly and thought for a moment. “I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Why?”

She shrugged but took a quick glance around the room, as though to demonstrate her next point. “It doesn’t seem like your scene.” She handed him back the bottle, now three quarters empty. 

He seemed to shrug without really moving his body at all, it was something in his expression and movement. He turned towards the small bar at the back of the room. “What are you having?” 

“Martini.” 

He pulled a face and she regarded him with a mock sense of sternness “Is there something wrong with that?”

He shook his head as they headed towards the bar together. “No.”

They drank their drinks and parted casually after he explained he had to be up early the following morning. She didn’t need to ask why, even she had noticed his group gaining some heat in the past few weeks. The thought should have made her roll her eyes, but instead, as he left the club she found herself giddy at the prospect of seeing him again. It could have been the alcohol; since her incident with the haircut she hadn’t touched a drop until that evening, but the following week, as she subconsciously waited for him to visit the store, the feelings remained. 

It was seven days before he turned up, five minutes before closing hours. The space had been deserted for the past twenty minutes and the tingle of the bell over the door made her jump a little from her space behind the desk. Her lips were puckered around the plastic mouthpiece of her electronic cigarette and she exhaled the flavoured vapour as he closed the door behind him and took a step into the room. 

“I think there’s a law against that.” He nodded casually towards the black device in her hands but his posture seemed smaller than usual; less sure of himself. She felt the same as she put it down on the desk and walked around the counter.

“The manager doesn’t mind.” She walked straight past him, ignoring as his eyes trailed long her purple tartan skater dress to her bare legs; her red Converse pattering along the linoleum. “So long as there are no customers around.” She turned the hand-drawn sign in the door window over from OPEN to CLOSED before locking the door. 

“Am I not a customer?” He asked, his eyes following her carefully as she pulled down the blinds and turned to him. 

She shook her head slowly. “Not at the moment.” She walked over to him and took his hand silently in hers, leading him towards the open door behind the counter. 

“Do you own the apartment?” He asked as he followed her up a narrow, squeaky set of stairs. She was deliberately slow; her short dress skimming along her creamy upper thighs. 

“No, just renting from the manager. He’s also my landlord.” She explained as they reached the top. The apartment door was unlocked and opened on a cramped living space. Her double bed stood against one painted wall; a small kitchenette along the other. An open door on the other side of the room suggested it led to a small bathroom and there was a closet beside it. Closing the apartment door behind them, not bothering to lock it now the store was closed, she walked over to the bed. Yoongi found the source of the room’s scent, a heady mixture of incense and marijuana, almost immediately. Her beside table, beside her surprisingly neatly made bed, sported both a ceramic tray for burning joss sticks and a lime green bong which he eyed indifferently. 

His gaze quickly returned to Kim as she slid the tartan dress from her long, slender body, pulling her arms out of the long sleeves. She was braless, and her pale pink nipples stood hard against the small mounds of her breasts as she dropped the garment on the floor, leaving her nude save a black thong. Yoongi’s eyes roamed over her body; her frame was leaner than the women he had been with before; the suggestion of muscles visible beneath her skin, no more obvious than on her stomach. He lingered on her small, perky breasts and the silver bar which adorned her left nipple. It suited her and made him feel a little breathless as she walked over to him, closing the gap between them, her expression unreadable. 

“Why?” He enquired softly, meeting her eyes steadily. 

She shook her head slightly, clearly frustrated with herself. “Just kiss me…” She pleaded. He hesitated for a moment before leaning forward to capture her lips. He kissed firmly at first, deliberately forceful against her for the first few seconds, their mutual desire obvious as he moved his hands to her waist to hold her steady. It was apparent to them both that they had a lot of tension to get out of their system; weeks of teasing and pestering each other coming to a head. She moaned into his slightly open mouth as their lips slowed, their kiss softening as they savoured and appreciated each other, their lips seeming to melt together. Later that evening, as Yoongi contemplated whether she had just wanted a quick fuck after all, the kiss would come back to mind and he knew that, despite herself, it had meant more to her than she let on. 

The sound of her unbuckling the metal clasp on his belt rang out through the room and she palmed his bulge firmly, rubbing him through his jeans. Pleased to find him already hard, she pulled away from his lips to drop to her knees, tugging his boxers down with both hands before taking his cock into her mouth. He moaned softly, closing his eyes momentarily as she guided her lips down his length. Opening them again, he made a point to watch as she gazed up at him; her eyes never leaving his as she sucked in her cheeks and worked him with her mouth. His heart fluttered at the sight; if someone had asked him an hour before what she thought of him, a part of him suspected, despite the tension, that she disliked him. And, all things considered, she thought the same about him. 

He found himself running his palm along the short section of her hair she thought he hated so much; his thumb brushing the short, fluffy strands tenderly as she sucked him; her pace steady and moderate. Something about this affected her and she clutched him closer, taking as much in as she could, her lips pressing against his skin as she moaned around him; enjoying his taste and the feel of his soft, warm flesh. His breathing was a little heavier than usual but otherwise steady, he controlled himself well and, when she finally pulled away and stood up, him helping her to her feet, she commented on this. 

“You’re pretty quiet.” She murmured, wiping her lips with her fingertips gently. 

He frowned, other hand still holding hers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.” He hesitated, reading her expression. “You feel good.” He reassured her, meaning it as he said it. She nodded, satisfied, and kissed him. Moving his hands to her rib cage, he palmed the skin, just below her breasts. 

“I like your piercing.” He murmured against her lips and felt her smile. She moved her hands over his and brought them up to the petite swell of her chest. Cupping the flesh from underneath, he ran his palms slowly over her nipples, being gentle with both but enjoying the cold sensation of the metal bar against his right hand especially. 

Her mouth opened in an almost-silent gasp of pleasure. “I’ll show you the other one if you like.” She whispered. It wasn’t really a question and he raised his eyebrow as she pulled away and led him to the double bed. He laid back on the brightly patterned covers without resistance as she straddled his hips; her damp panties resting against his lower stomach as she leaned down and kissed him; her mouth wet under the canopy her blonde hair created. His hands roamed over her body as his tongue met hers, their breaths warm against each other as they kissed passionately. 

She tugged up his shirt to reveal his bellybutton before sliding down off the bed, breaking away from him to pull down his jeans and boxers, throwing the later to the floor while she searched through the pockets of his denim. Yoongi watched her curiously, a little amused as she removed his plain leather wallet from one pocket and searched through it coolly. She smirked as she successfully found the single square packet of a condom in one of the compartment and dropped the wallet to the floor. Yoongi laid back onto the bed as she crawled back onto him, allowing her to slide the latex down his cock. 

She removed her string panties quickly and sat on him, sinking her bare pussy down onto his length with a mutual gasp as he filled her completely. Reaching forward, curious, he brushed his fingers gently against the front of her wet slit and searched for the piercing she had mentioned. She smiled and spread herself open for him, angling her torso and hips back to give him a better view of the little silver bar on the pink hood above her clit. He circled it gently with his index finger as she began to ride him, her hips bouncing up and down energetically against his pelvis, fucking him ferociously. He grasped her hips with both hands as she increased her speed, first leaning back and snapping her neck back before moving forwards to press her palms flat against his covered chest; his plain t-shirt still on. She moaned loudly; her exclamations filling the small space; a direct contrast to the low, breathy grunts he exhaled each time he felt her, warm and tight and wet, envelop him. It didn’t take long for her to cum as she set her own, vigorous pace, as though milking herself of her own emotions. 

Her orgasm was frantic and loud; she practically screamed as her hips slowed against him; her blonde hair hanging limply against her breasts. Needing to follow her quickly, he snapped his hips up to meet hers as she held herself still, resting on her knees as he pushed in and out of her. She whined again in pleasure when he came; his hands were momentarily hard against her hips, fingers digging into her sides as he let out an audible sob, moaning as he reached his high. She watched his expression carefully as he came, savouring the way his doll-like mouth dropped open and his eyes scrunched shut. 

Rolling off him, she nestled herself against the headboard, legs slightly parted as she pulled her knees up to her chest as he removed the condom and dropped it easily into the bedside bin. They were silent for a few moments as their breathing slowed, before she spoke up. 

“Can you pass me that?” She gestured over to the bedside table on Yoongi’s side. He hesitated for a moment before reaching for her lime green bong, picking up the stoner-purple lighter beside it automatically and handing them both to her. He gazed up at her, a little awkwardly, from his angle against the pillow. 

“Was it that bad?” He asked, a little drily as he shifted to see her better, moving his body up the bed so they were seated side by side. 

She raised her eyebrows at him, smirking as she lit the compacted ball in the narrow pipe, heating it with the lighter. “I always get high when I fuck.” She shrugged her shoulders easily and took a drag from the larger tube, exhaling a ring of smoke into the air. “Do you?” 

He paused for a moment before shaking his head silently. He watched her searchingly as she took a couple of more hits; the potent scent filling the room, before changing the topic. 

“Did you get it out of your system?” His voice was calm and curious. 

She paused, her mouth pressed against the plastic tube. “The sex?” She asked. 

He nodded, allowing himself to properly wonder for the first time that evening whether her feelings for him were as two-dimensional as he first thought.

Hesitating, she thought for a moment. “It was good.” She explained, simply, taking another hit. 

He paused, thinking. “Could I make it better?” He looked at her and she met his gaze.

“I don’t know.” She inhaled from the tube. “Could you?” She asked straightforwardly. He looked at her for another moment, their eyes connecting, before he tapped her bare thigh gently, encouraging her to move over. She exhaled slowly with a grin, her head drifting back against the headboard dreamily as he moved between her thighs. She parted them submissively as he nestled himself onto the sheets and spread her outer lips with his fore and middle finger to view her flushed pussy. 

“When did you get this?” He asked, brushing the silver piercing bar gently with the tip of his finger. 

“About a year ago.” She realised why he had asked immediately and reassured him. “It hurt like a fucking bitch, but it’s okay now.” She smirked, looking down at him. “Do you like it?”

His eyes darkened as they focused on how wet and pretty she was. Her immaculately waxed lips allowed him to view her completely. “It’s sexy.” He answered honestly and she felt her stomach flutter at the compliment; it was worlds away from the way he provoked and aggravated her during his visits to the store and she couldn’t help but wonder whether he had liked her all along. Her thoughts scattered when he puckered his plump lips around her swollen clit, capturing the piercing between his mouth and touching his tongue lightly to the bud, feeling it move slightly against his muscle. She gasped in surprise at the intensity of sensation and quickly placed her bong on the carpeted floor before she had chance to drop it. She was glad she did when, moments later, Yoongi opened his mouth softly against her, showering her piercing with open mouthed, wet kisses, keeping his mouth pressed against her as he made out with her pussy. Everything seemed to throb with pleasure as she felt the marijuana she had been inhaling taking effect; the room seemed to swim pleasantly as he continued to kiss her; his tongue licking her inner labia gently before his lips closed around her once more. She could feel every motion intensely, every change in pace or pressure. Eventually, she commented on this, feeling as though her entire body was simultaneously being caressed with ice cubes and kissed by butterfly wings. 

“It feels strange…” 

He stopped his motion against her immediately at the sound of her voice, pulling his wet mouth away from her. “Do you want me to stop?” 

She hesitated, thinking for a moment. “No.” She looked down at him; his red hair peeping from below her flat stomach. “Can you put your tongue inside?” Her voice sounded a little doubtful, tentative that he would do it, but he complied with her request without fuss, holding her legs apart as he tongued her opening, pushing inside gently. She moaned loudly at the new sensation, less intense and easier to palette in her current state than his clit work had been. She wondered how he would feel against her when she wasn’t high and whether she would be able to orgasm from it, but for now she enjoyed the slow, unhurried build of pleasure. 

Eventually, knowing that the drug had stilted her ability to orgasm, she pulled him away gently and welcomed his wet, sweet kiss as she tugged him towards her mouth by his shirt. 

“What did it feel like?” He asked. Her breath was ragged against his mouth and face. 

She thought for a second. “Tingly.” She tried to find the right words. “Tingly everywhere…” She pecked his lips with her open mouth, unable to stop herself. “I could feel it in my fingers.” She finished, rolling off him gently and loosely grasping his fingers between hers. “Aren’t you going to take your shirt off?” She asked after a moment, looking down at his otherwise bare body. He glanced at her, questioning. “I want to see your chest.” She smirked in reply. 

He laughed but removed the t-shirt from his torso easily. “It’s not that exciting.” He quipped, dropping it to the floor to join their other clothes before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. 

 

PART TWO 

Four weeks later…

Her cries echoed around the tiled room as he angled the shower head against her clitoris and moved it closer; the water splashed against her before spurting off in all directions. Yoongi pulled her closer to him, her nude back pressed against his torso as he clutched her tighter; one hand wrapped around the metal shower head and the other around her stomach, fingers splayed against her hard abdominal muscles. The bathroom was just as small and cramped as the rest of her apartment and, despite their physiques both being slight, their limbs cascaded over the side of the white tub; her toes skimming the tiled floor as she spread her legs wider. 

"Fuck Yoongi…fuck…” She practically screamed as he moved his spare hand to her wet nub and began to rub her, the shower head lubricating her further before the water drained down into the open plug. Their bodies were both thoroughly damp from the spray of the tap; their hair clinging to their foreheads. He had dyed his back to a medium brown some days before and she had found herself unable to tease him about it. It suited him. 

He explored her body further, dipping his fingers gently into her opening momentarily before rubbing the smooth, pink skin of her labia minora, savouring her loud moans from the hard spray of water. Despite the outdated appliances in the bathroom, the water pressure was surprisingly good. It was Liberation Day and the store had closed for the national holiday, leaving them the day to spend alone together. It was one of the first opportunities they had had to do so; with his hectic schedule and her in charge of the store five days out of seven.

“Don’t you stop you cunt.” She shrieked as he opened his mouth against her neck, moving her long, wet hair aside to the other shoulder to kiss along her skin. Moving his spare hand away from her pussy, he moved the shower head closer until it almost touched her and pinched her nipple gently. Her body shuddered against his chest as she came; a string of expletives leaving her lips and loudly echoing. 

They got dressed slowly, in no hurry as he pulled on his jeans and she slid into a plain cotton dress. 

“Can you speak English?” He suddenly asked as he pushed his arms into the sleeves of his black band t-shirt.

She nodded. “I can. I usually don’t.”

“Why not?”

She sighed. “At high school people would ask me to curse for them in English. It got boring.”

He reached down and handed her a pair of burgundy tights she can discarded on the floor earlier in the day. “You have no problem cursing in Korean.” He quipped, remembering the words which had escaped her mouth in the bathroom as she reached orgasm. “Are your parents American?” He asked. 

She shook her head. “Grandparents. On mom’s side. They moved over after the war.” She sat on the bed to slide on her tights as she told her story offhandedly. “My dad’s English. He settled here for a few years while he was working on the oil rigs and met my mom.”

“Is he back in England now?” Yoongi asked, curious. 

“Yeah, outside of Manchester.” She finished dressing and got to her feet. 

“Does she support United or City?” 

She smirked. “City.” They grinned in unison before a banging sound from downstairs caught her attention. At first her face frowned as she considered the possibility of a burglary, but the soft sound of New Wave British pop drifted up the stairs and she relaxed. “It’s just Min-Kyu…” She automatically headed towards the apartment door and went downstairs. He followed her, the steps creaking beneath his socks as they entered the almost-deserted store. 

Her boss was in his mid-thirties at a guess and sported the kind of wiry black moustache Yoongi often saw when accompanying Kim to her DJ-ing gigs. He was standing behind the counter in a casual pair of jeans and shirt, fumbling with the cash register. He waved as they entered the room. 

“Afternoon Kimberly.” He called familiarly as they approached; he regarded Yoongi coolly. “Kimberley’s friend.” He nodded before turning back to the register. “I let myself in, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Is something wrong?” She asked, leaning forward to see. He was trying to pry the metal draw open with a screwdriver. 

“It started sticking yesterday.” He explained. The day before had been his shift. “Luckily there were no customers after 4pm because it wouldn’t open.” 

Kim frowned, trying to work out the problem. “I’ll get a better screwdriver.” She murmured before heading back upstairs. There was a moment of silence between the two men as she left before Yoongi extended his hand. 

“Do you want me to try?” 

The man nodded and handed him the device. “If you can mate. I’ve been trying for the past half an hour.” 

Yoongi moved past him and bent down, inserting the flat end of the instrument into the gap between the till and the desk. The man chuckled restlessly behind him. 

“You sure seem to know how to give a girl a good time.” He said, making Yoongi frown. “It’s a good thing we don’t have any neighbours…” 

The younger male realised what he was talking about and shifted uncomfortably. The landlord went on. 

“That’s the good thing about living above a record store though…you can drown it out easily.” He winked as Yoongi managed to gauge the draw open. “Oh…you did it!” Min-Kyu exclaimed as Kim came noisily down the stairs, clutching an array of screwdrivers. “Crisis over. Your boyfriend’s done it.” The older man grinned, stepping away from the pair. “I’d better go. Leave you to it.” He waved, a little awkwardly as he left the store, locking the door behind himself with his own key before walking down the street. 

Yoongi turned to Kim who regarded the devices in her hand with some embarrassment. 

“I guess we don’t need these.” She smirked, placing them down on the counter. Yoongi wondered whether she was going to mention how Min-Kyu had called him her boyfriend, since they had never spoken about that side of things, but the moment seemed to pass without any discomfort. 

“Have you known him long?” Yoongi asked as they headed back up the stairs. 

“Min-Kyu? Three years or so, why?” 

Yoongi shook his head. “Just wondering. Did the apartment used to be his?”

“Yeah, he moved to a bigger place but I rent it pretty cheaply.” She shrugged. “He used to like me.” 

Yoongi didn’t say anything. He had known that from the moment the older man’s eyes roamed over her. He tried not to think about it as they entered the apartment together, holding hands. 

 

PART THREE 

Five months later…

“Can I come over?” Yoongi clutched his cell to his ear, his other hand pressed firmly against the dressing on his stomach. He felt a little sore and winced at the contact, reaching over to his bedside table and swallowing three white pills dry. 

“Sure.” Her reply on the other end of the phone came a little slowly, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he had interrupted something. He arrived at the store half and hour later, twenty minutes after it closed and waited to be let in.

“How are you?” She asked as they headed up the narrow stairs and into her bedroom.

“They said it would take six weeks to heal.” He turned to face her as she closed the door behind them. “I missed you.” His eyes roamed over her face, taking her in before he leaned forward and kissed her passionately. She looped her arms loosely around his shoulders as it quickly turned heated; he nestled against her, tilting his head to the side to capture her mouth closely. 

“The doctor says I can’t have sex until then.” He said, a little breathlessly as he pulled away, frowning. “You have no idea how much I want to.”

He couldn’t read her expression but thought nothing of it, exciting to have her back after weeks of being away, he led her backwards onto the bed and pushed her into the covers, showering her bare thighs with kisses as he crawled forward. 

“No, wait Yoongi.” She gasped as he reached her panties, visible under her short denim skirt. “You don’t have to…” She said weakly, her hand hovering against his hair, naturally black once more. 

He frowned, sensing that the doubt in her voice was due to her being anxious for his well-being. “It’s okay. They gave me painkillers.” He reassured her as he moved back in. She didn’t protest as he hooked his hands under her skirt and pulled down her pale pink panties and threw them aside. He petted her clitoris a couple of times before pressing a lingering kiss against her, sucking her nub between his lips gently. He pushed her skirt further up her body to gain better access as he licked and probed with his tongue, kissing her sensually and moaning at her familiar taste. While she didn’t remain silent, it became increasingly obvious that what he was doing wasn’t working her up. He pulled away to place a few tender kisses against her inner thigh.

“Are you okay?” He asked against her skin. When she didn’t reply he pulled away completely, his brow crumpling. “What’s wrong?” He sat up, perched on his knees, careful to not make any sudden movements in case he hurt his stomach further. 

“I…” She began, pulling down her skirt to cover herself, as though embarrassed about her nudity. “I don’t know how to tell you…” Yoongi wasn’t sure whether it was her voice which worried him or the way she suddenly seemed bothered about him seeing her naked. She sat up against the headboard.

“Tell me what?” He asked.

There was a pause. “Min-kyu…” She said, her voice frail. There was a long moment of silence and understanding as Yoongi immediately put the pieces together. He had seen her boss on a couple of occasions since the first time and, while he had never questioned her, it had seemed obvious to him that there had been some past history there between them. He had tried to push the thought to the back of his mind. After all, everybody had a past didn’t they? Her expression now said it all and he couldn’t help but ask.

“Did you fuck?” His voice was surprisingly calm. 

Her bottom lip quivered. “Sort of.”

“How do you ‘sort of’ fuck?” A hint of disbelief crept into his tone but he remained calm. It was this, more than the truth which made her start to cry. 

“It just happened!” She tried to explain, clutching her face between her hands as her eyes streamed.

“When I was in hospital?” He asked collectedly.

“I didn’t know what was wrong with you!” Her voice grew louder between the sobs. Instead of making him feel sorry for her, it made his body feel hotter; he could feel his cheeks glowing red.

“Does that make it okay?” He asked with a frown. 

She paused before shaking his head. “No…” She forced herself to look at him properly for the first time that evening. Her storm-blue eyes were glistening and shiny. “I feel terrible.” She finished. Her answer told everything he needed to know; it wasn’t an apology as such, more of an admittance. It wasn’t just sex. At some point over the past few weeks, she had fallen for Min-Kyu.

“I don’t believe this!” He turned away from her, exasperated, clutching his dark hair with his fingers. 

“I’m sorry Yoongi.” She said, weakly. 

“It was appendicitis, not a coma.” His face twisted in confusion as he turned to face her. “You could have called.” 

“I did.” She sobbed.

“How many times?” 

It felt like an accusation and she didn’t answer. 

“How long has this been going on?” He asked, needing to know. Had she been seeing him behind his back this whole time? He doubted it but the nagging feeling of doubt was enough to make him question how much of their six month relationship had been real after all. 

“There’s nothing going on.” She sighed, drying her face with the back of her hand. 

Yoongi paused as he considered her answer. “So you don’t have feelings for him?” He eventually asked. The look on her face said it all and she didn’t attempt to answer. He turned around and headed back down the stairs, ignoring the sound of her calls from behind him. 

*

He finally plucked up the courage to visit the store two weeks later to pick up the things he had left in her apartment; a pair of Bose headphones, a couple of spare T-shirts and his favourite black beanie. It was a weekday, so was surprised to find Min-Kyu serving behind the counter. He entered the store regardless and regarded him expressionlessly. 

“I came for my stuff.” 

Min-kyu looked up from the desk and a moment of panic passed over his features as he realised he was otherwise alone in the store. The moment of fear passed as he realised that Yoongi was too upset, or too fed up, to argue with him. He muttered something in reply and got up to unlock the door to the upstairs apartment. Kim was away, visiting relatives and had taken holiday time to do so. The older male stood hesitantly in the doorway of the living space, watching as Yoongi collected a few items from the closet and bedside table. 

“Look.” He started, feeling as though he had to say something. “I’m sorry about how things turned out with Kimberly.” The fact that he was the cause of their breakup didn’t seem to really register with him or cause any guilt. When Yoongi turned to go back downstairs, however, he stepped aside quickly, suddenly worried he may have said the wrong thing. The younger male surprised him as they crossed paths for the final time. 

“You both suit each other.” He said softly. Min-kyu wondered, as the sound of the bell above the shop door alerted him to the fact Yoongi had left, whether it was meant as a compliment or not. The man’s tone of voice was hard to read into. Just as well, he thought, it could have been an insult.


End file.
